


Hidden

by jumpintigger



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpintigger/pseuds/jumpintigger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on the kmeme: While Anders is in Hawke's library hiding his manifesto, Hawke and Fenris comes back home and start having sex; Anders is forced to hide and wait for the couple to finish their business before running away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden

Sneaking in Hawke’s mansion turned out to be his worst idea ever. And Anders has seen his fair share of bad ideas.  
  
Alright. He could always blame Hawke; if the warrior had stopped only once to listen to him, if he only believed him when he spoke about mage’s right, he wouldn’t feel forced to sneak in his house every single time to leave the new copies of his Manifesto. And even with his insistence all his work ended up in the fireplace.  
  
The copy on Hawke’s desk? Burned. The one left on his bed? Burned.  
  
That’s why this time Anders was ready: he gathered ten copies of his manifesto - _ten copies! His hand was still sore from all that writing!_   - with all the intention to leave them in the library, hidden in some random books that he knew for sure would be noticed and picked up.  
  
Anders had just closed _Walking you Mabari_ , and was about to place it back on its shelf when some noises from the foyer, followed by a voice he could recognize everywhere, caught his attention.  
  
 _Crap. Hawke is back. He wasn’t supposed to get back so early!_  
  
Shaking like a scared kitten, he bolted to a closet, sighing in relief when he noticed that not only it was empty but also spacious enough that he could hide inside of it for a while. Well, during his life as a mage on the run he had to hide in places that were much worse than an empty closet; at least this time he was warm and didn’t need to befriend any rats!  
  
All he had to do was wait for Hawke to go upstairs so he could ran away from this blighted mansion, right?  
  
Wrong.  
  
With a loud bang, the door of the library bolted open.  
  
 _Oh Maker, why do you hate me so?_  
  
Risking to be caught and because he did want to understand what was going on, why Hawke was back home early and why he was in the library at this time of the night, he opened the closet’s door ajar.  
  
 _Bloody Hell._  
  
His brain tried to process the image in front of his eyes. Hawke pressing Fenris to the wall. Fenris’ hands _inside_ Hawke’s trousers. And they were kissing. No, that was not correct. They were devouring each other.  
  
Anders slammed one hand on his mouth and the other on his eyes.  
  
 _This is a nightmare. It’s not real. Now I’ll open my eyes again and the_ y’ll be gone.  
  
With a deep breath Anders started to count. One. Two. Three.  
  
He opened his eyes.  
  
Hawke’s shirt was gone. Fenris was nibbling at his neck. They both had the laces of their trousers open. He didn’t want to know where their hands were.  
  
 _I’m dead._  
  
In this kind of life-or-dead situations, Anders wanted to cry. Stuck in a closet, in someone else’s house, his current crush making out with his life-sworn enemy in front of him. Not that they knew he was actually there, but still…it hurt. A little.  
  
Well. Since he couldn’t go anywhere and he was already dead…  
  
A loud moan - Hawke? - distracted him from his own thoughts. Oh Maker. Now the elf was shirtless too. He bit his lower lip, unable to avert his gaze from the other men.  
  
 _I’m just checking how incompetent the elf is._    
  
Yes, that kind of lie could work.   
  
He licked his lips, focusing on the shift of muscles in Hawke’s back, and even if being the healer of the group meant he did actually had his chance to touch those muscles, he felt a pang of jealousy. He never touched that man like _that._  
  
He followed the sight of Fenris’ hands disappearing again inside Hawke’s trousers for an instant, before the elf hooked his thumbs on the waistband and pulled them down, slowly, exposing inch after inch of flesh.  
  
This was a torture. That ass was perfect.  Anders widened his eyes, his mouth suddenly dry.  
  
 _Oh Maker. I am an old pervert._  
  
Hawke growled and moved away from Fenris, taking off his boots and pants with a haste that did not surprise Anders at all. Since Hawke was giving his back to Anders, all the mage could see was the smug expression in Fenris’ face, the swift finger of the elf discarding his remaining clothes.  
  
Oh. So the lyrium lines weren’t everywhere.

Anders didn’t have time at all to feel disappointed; Fenris rested his arms above Hawke’s shoulders, buried his finger in his hairs and crushed their mouths together. The kiss was hot, breathtaking and ended as soon as it started.  
  
Hawke placed an open-mouthed kiss on Fenris’ collarbone before moving downward, trailing wet kisses and following with his tongue the lyrium lines on his chest, down to his navel.  
  
Swallowing hard, Anders was hypnotized by the sight. He followed Hawke’s tongue on Fenris’ body, noticed the way the elf was yanking the other warrior down on his knees, how his hands were still in his hairs, the shift of muscles of both their bodies.    
  
Anders tried not to think, but he could no longer hide the truth: he was aching hard. Scowling, he placed his hands on his crotch, feeling the hardness hidden under the fabric.  
  
 _You traitor._  
  
Biting his lips so hard to drawn blood, Anders tugged open the laces of his pants, sighing in relief when his cock sprang free from his briefs. With his eyes locked on Hawke - now mouthing Fenris’ shaft in such a teasing way he saw the elf shiver and growl - Anders wrapped his finger around the base, sliding his hand up.  
  
His other hand went to the side of the closet, still mindful not to lose his balance while he stroked his erection with the same rhythm of Hawke’s head bobbing up and down; Anders didn’t stop when Hawke pulled his mouth free, gave a last lick to the tip and placed a soft kiss on Fenris’ hipbone.  
  
“You asshole.” Fenris muttered, yanking Hawke up by his hair, nipping at his jaw and pulling him into a kiss. “Stop teasing and fuck me.”  
  
 “So bossy.” Hawke chuckled, kissing him again. “Rug, desk or here?” He asked Fenris, and then he turned toward the desk.

Until that very moment all Anders could see was the backside of the man, now, with Hawke facing the closet in which he was hidden, he had the whole picture.  
  
 _That elf is so damn lucky._ Anders thought, muffling a moan and trying to slow down his thrusting in his own hand. He was too close, too damn close. Flushing, Anders drank in the sight of those fine hairs on his chest and abdomen, of Hawke’s erect cock, wishing once again that the man were his to touch.  
  
He lost it. Anders closed his eyes, giving up on every appearance of control, and began fucking his own hand relentlessly.  
  
Oh. Maker. All the things he would have done to him. How he would make Hawke happy. He saw himself prowling on Hawke’s bed, _above_ Hawke’s body, lips, tongue and teeth discovering every inch of flesh on his path, what made him shiver, what made him growl. Him licking, kissing and mouthing that cock. Nuzzling the inside of his thighs, nibbling at his chest.  
  
Biting hard his free hand, Anders came.  
  
The first thing he did upon recovering his breath was to open his eyes and check outside the closet, wiping distractedly his hand with his pants.  
  
Oh. His breath hitched.  
  
Fenris draped against the desk. Hawke thrusting behind him, his forehead rested on the back of Fenris’ neck. Trying to gain a better view, Anders scooted closer to the door.  
  
Then, it happened. He lost his balance, stumbled outside of the closet and fell on the floor.  
  
 _No. Nope. No way. Thank you Maker, I’m officially a dead man._  
  
For an instant, the whole world stopped.  
  
Anders tried to stand up as fast as he could, yelping at the sight of his pants falling mid-thigh; he pulled them up, hands fumbling with the laces. “I’m sorry, _pleasedontkillme!_ ” He blurted out, dropping his gaze to the floor and bolting toward the door.  
  
He didn’t make it.  
  
Fenris was the first to react, moving too fast for Anders to escape; pulling the mage for the tunic, he slammed him against the wall. “Give me a reason to let you live, mage.” The elf snarled, showing his teeth in an expression of rage Anders has never seen before.  
  
Slumping his shoulders, Anders closed his eyes as Fenris flared blue, ready for the _not-happy-fisting-thing_ he knew was about to hit him.  
  
“Fenris, wait.” Hawke. Oh right, that was how he was going to die then, not by an angry glowing elf. “Let him go.” Anders snapped his eyes open, staring stupidly at Hawke.  
  
As an answer, Fenris tightened his grip on Anders’ tunic.  
  
Hawke sighed, walking forward and resting his hand on Fenris’ shoulder. “Look, he has to have an explanation, all right? And he can’t really talk if you keep on choking him.”  
  
Fenris didn’t simply let Anders go but threw him on the floor; that’s how Anders ended up on his ass.  
  
Anders really didn’t know where to look, his eyes were crotch-level and even if a little part of him was positive on the close sight of Hawke’s private parts, he knew better than watch.  
  
“Look,” Anders began, raising on his feet once again and moving away from Fenris’ _fisting range_. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was here only to hide my Manifesto. Then you... he... I freaked out! I hid. And you were busy. And...” Anders stopped, took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Hawke’s eyes. “I’m sorry. If you let me go you’ll never hear about me again.”  
  
He started walking toward the door, but when Hawke spoke, he froze on the spot. “Don’t go. Please.”  
  
Anders knew that Fenris was saying something, that his voice seemed angry but he didn’t discern the words, instead he felt a large, warm hand on his shoulder pulling him backwards until his back was flushed against Hawke’s chest.  
  
Maker! Didn’t the man possess any kind of decency? He was still naked!  
  
 “Don’t go.” Hawke spoke softly in Anders’ ear, almost a whisper, his warm breath tickling the side of his neck. “Stay.” Lips brushed against his jaw, nuzzling his stubble, hands were moving downward to the chain of his pauldrons.  
  
“Hawke. I can’t.” Anders shook his head; he knew he should move away from Hawke, that nothing good would come from this, he did reject that man once, and he needed to do it again.  
  
Honestly, he didn’t understand why he was still alive, why Fenris stopped arguing and why in the blighted void the elf didn’t tore his heart out yet.  
  
Stepping away from that embrace was the most difficult thing he did in his whole life. Without looking back, he ran to the door, going out from the library and moving toward the front door.  
  
Before leaving the Estate, he heard Hawke talking to Fenris, the warrior’s voice coming from the library.  
  
“Don’t worry love; he’ll come back to us.”  



End file.
